


Serenade the World (From Inside My Heart)

by universea (beesparks)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: A lot of needless banter, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chanyeol and Baekhyun are music snobs pretty much, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Romance, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-07 23:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12851565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beesparks/pseuds/universea
Summary: As a lyricist with a fair amount of emotional baggage, Baekhyun really doesn’t have time for snarky, workaholic composers. And yet at the same time, he kind of needs Park Chanyeol in order to save his career. What’s more… Chanyeol kind of needs him too.





	Serenade the World (From Inside My Heart)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired from a tweet prompt I saw a while ago, which in turn was inspired from That Scene in EXO Next Door where Baekhyun and Chanyeol are being the musical soulmates that they are and composing a song on the fly. I added an Enemies-to-Lovers trope and here we are! The composer and lyricist fic no one asked for. Comments and feedback are appreciated! Thanks for reading!

“Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun grunts and swats at the offending hand that taps his shoulder. “Leave me alone.”

“Baekhyun.”

“Shut up, _please_.” A bright light erupts in front of his eyelids.

“Byun Baekhyun, come on. We need to talk.” The voice is _so_ loud, loud enough to get Baekhyun to groan and stretch out his arms, feeling the delicious pop in his elbows. He cracks open an eye and squints into the blinding light of Kyungsoo’s cell phone flashlight. “You’re sleeping in an office chair again,” his agent says in a monotone voice. “Why?”

“What time is it?” Baekhyun groans, smacking his lips. His back kills like hell. A few hours ago, the sleek leather of the chair had seemed inviting, but now, his spine feels like it had been wrapped around a telephone pole. That, and his mouth tastes like balled-up socks.

“Two AM,” Kyungsoo replies matter-of-factly, frowning. “You didn’t answer my question, though. Why are you here and not in your apartment?”

“I just… didn’t feel like going home.”

“Why didn’t you call me? You could have stayed at my place, or Jongdae’s.” Kyungsoo’s face is illuminated eerily by his flashlight in the darkness of the studio, edging his buzzed hair in a halo of incandescent light. He sighs. “Is this about Taeyeon?

Baekhyun flinches hard. “Please, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’m trying to understand, Baek. As your friend, but also as your agent. I need to know so we can work things out. Is this because of _her_?”

“Yes? Maybe? I don’t… I don’t know.” Baekhyun feels oddly close to tears, hysteria creeping into his voice. “You think it’s pathetic, don’t you? I didn’t ask for it, you know. I didn’t ask for her to leave, not really.” His words blur together as hot tears fog his vision. “We fell apart, it was the only natural thing to do, just tell me, tell me I didn’t make a mistake, tell me this was the right thing to do. Kyungsoo. Please, help me.”

There’s a pulse of silence, punctuated only by Baekhyun’s heavy breathing. Kyungsoo pulls him into a hug, patting his sweaty back with an awkward, reassuring hand. “It’s not your fault.”

“I don’t know what to do, Kyungsoo. Should I take a break? Maybe distance myself from the industry so I can sort things out?”

Kyungsoo pulls back and frowns at him, processing Baekhyun’s question in a slow, deliberate way. “I don’t think that’s wise,” he lets out slowly. “We both know you’d go crazy without your music.”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun laughs weakly, sadly. “But she’s everywhere here. I can’t shake the thought of her, not when she’s dancing on TV in stupid glittery outfits and singing into my ear when I shuffle my playlists.”

“Then we change it up. Get you on track with a new composer, delete her songs off your phone, _shit_ Baek, you don’t have to make this so hard on yourself.”

Baekhyun groans in the dark, but his eyes are relenting in the flashlight’s harsh glow, like he knows that Kyungsoo is right. “New composer?”

“Do you remember Park Chanyeol?”

A frown settles on Baekhyun’s face as the name sinks into his system. “Yeah, I remember him. The one I worked with on _Moment_ , right? The tall, obnoxious one. God, that was a long time ago.”

“His company put out a search for new lyricists. Apparently he had some trouble with the last one, something about songs charting poorly or something.” Kyungsoo clears his throat. “Jongdae and I think it would be good if… if you two worked together again.”

Baekhyun rubs his eyes tiredly. “I don’t understand. I don’t even remember him fully. Why would you want us to work together?”

“ _Moment_ won Record of the Year in Digital Release, Baek. You remember that. Look, I couldn’t even walk into a bloody cafe without the damn song blaring over the speakers. You can’t deny that you two make incredible music together.”

“I don’t like the guy,” Baekhyun replies bluntly, suddenly awake. “I _really_ don’t like the guy.”

Kyungsoo snorts. “Yeah, and you made that abundantly clear by bolting out of the studio as soon as the track was finalized. Poor dude was probably expecting at least a goodbye after being holed up with you for half a year.”

“No, he definitely wasn’t.” The lyricist scowls as his brain conjures a vague picture of the composer, towering and with a perpetual frown set into his brow. He can certainly recall the way Park Chanyeol argued with him over the way the words aligned with the melody. _His_ words. _Baekhyun’s_ words, not Chanyeol’s. He also remembers something else that makes his stomach churn. His scowl deepens.

The agent rolls his eyes and reaches out to smack Baekhyun’s thigh with his phone. “Well, you don’t really have a say in the matter at this point. If we let you continue to mope, you’ll probably just end up drowning in ice cream cartons and B-grade movies for the rest of the year. And _that_ we can’t have. So come on. Get up, brush your teeth, go back to being the snarky and insufferable Byun Baekhyun that I know, yeah?”

“You’re still setting me up with Park Chanyeol?” Baekhyun whines, but he wrenches himself off of the chair, back creaking like an unoiled door hinge.

“Baek, it’s not like I’m sending off to get married to the guy. It’s for one season, okay? Just to get your mind off of Taeyeon and to reboot this withering career of yours. Don’t you miss writing songs?”

“Yeah, okay. I get it. Fine, call his company, whatever.” Baekhyun realizes he’s being rude, so he shoots Kyungsoo a soppy half-smile. “Thanks, Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo waves his hand as if he’s unaffected, but there’s a small smile playing on his lips. “And he can’t possibly be as bad as you remember him. It’s been four years, Baek. Something tells me that you’re being a bit too hard on him. People change, you know.”

Baekhyun grunts noncommittally, but deep down, he knows that Kyungsoo’s probably right like usual, even if it kills him to admit it. Shrugging on his jacket, he lets them both out of the studio, flashing his agent a shaky grin. It’s forced, but it’s on the mend. Kyungsoo must have noticed, because his face brightens with a rare smile that reaches his eyes.

“Come on, let’s go. You have some music to make.”

 

~

 

“Damn it!” Chanyeol shouts, brushing off all of the papers lying on his desk with one enormous sweep of his arm. “What do these critics want? I give them an electropop tune, they demand deep house. I give them deep house, they want post-disco.” He staples a stack of random sheet music together to the beat of “They. Are. Never. Fucking. Satisfied.”

Minseok pops his head into the studio room, black bangs flopping into his eyes like a boy-bander. “Ah, good, you’re in here. Jongin said you left on a coffee break, but that kid’s so forgetful, I thought…”

“What do you need, Minseok?” Chanyeol asks flatly, the fight draining out of his body like oxygen from a balloon. He snaps his laptop shut in one last bout of anger.

“Woah, something wrong?”

Chanyeol sighs and rubs his hands all over his face before turning to the sound tech. “Shitty review again from SoundWeek. Something about melodies sounding recycled and that I need new inspiration. What, like that new Kim Rona song was fresh and funky? The thing sounded straight from an old Happy Mode album and yet here they are, drooling all over it.”

Instead of seeming sympathetic, Minseok looks hesitant, with his eyes roaming Chanyeol’s face carefully like he’s dealing with a feral animal. He opens his mouth to speak before closing it again quickly.

 _“What_ , Minseok.”

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” The sound tech slips fully into Chanyeol’s studio and shuts the door softly. “Joonmyun’s worried about you. The negative reviews are kind of a constant at this point, but I don’t think you need me to say that to know it. And not to sound like I’m agreeing with them or anything, but… there has been a considerable downgrade in your quality of late.”

“I don’t need this, Minseok,” Chanyeol groans, sprawling his arms across his swivel chair. “And I don’t need flak from Joonmyun either. Aren’t agents supposed to mind their own business when they’re not pairing me up for releases?”

“Well, in that case, this _is_ Joonmyun’s business then.” Minseok continues to watch the composer with a wary eye. “He wants to set you up with a new lyricist. Byun Baekhyun. You know, the one of _Wanting to Love You_ fame? You worked on _Moment_ together, back in the day.”

Chanyeol frowns, racking his brain for a Byun Baekhyun. There’s been far too many lyricists in his career, enough so that he doesn’t really bother to match names with faces anymore. Then he remembers all of a sudden -- a small, scowling face coming to mind. He hasn’t pictured that face in years. “The short one with a big ego?”

“I… guess so?”

“Dammit, why him? We didn’t get along. I could barely stand him during production and when it was all over, he just blasted out of the studio like he was dying to get rid of me. Not that I cared. He annoyed me to no end with how self-righteous he was about his lyrics.”

“ _Moment_ was a gem, though, Chanyeol.” Minseok’s gaze is much more confident now, his voice rising in excitement. “You achieved a sustained all-kill for _three and a half weeks_! Lee Minsoo was practically kissing both of your feet for helping him ace his debut. That doesn’t happen to just anyone. Plus I’m pretty sure SoundWeek called it a masterpiece or something.”

“Fuck SoundWeek,” Chanyeol murmurs, but it comes out weak. “And you want me to collaborate with him?”

“Me, Joonmyun. The entire studio. No offense, Chanyeol, but we’re all kind of tired of you storming about when critics get around to listening to your recent releases. I think Byun Baekhyun could get you back onto your feet, revive that composer genius in you that’s been fizzling out a bit.”

“He’s freaking annoying,” Chanyeol says grumpily, but he shuffles the papers on his desk neatly and divides them into piles. “And he’s obstinate and egotistical and he always brings food into the studio and never shares.”

“You remember a lot about him considering that you worked with him four years ago.” Minseok raises his eyebrows in suspicion.

Chanyeol shrugs absently, but the tips of his ears go conspicuously red. “He was just that obnoxious. It’s hard to forget someone _that_ loud. Selfish, too. He was really… selfish.”

“Uh… huh,” Minseok says, sounding unconvinced. “Well, I’ll tell Joonmyun to contact his company and we’ll get you guys set up in the upcoming week or so. And Chanyeol, who knows? He might have changed since you last worked with him. A lot can happen in four years.”

“Maybe,” Chanyeol says. “Oh, by the way, as much as I enjoy your company, why isn’t Joonmyun delivering this revival speech?”

Minseok chuckles as he swings open the studio door to let himself out. “Poor dude ate one of the pastries that Sehun brought over from _Lila’s_ without knowing it was stuffed with butter. And you know how he gets with a dairy overload. At first, when he called me to the bathroom I thought he wanted me to bring him more toilet paper, but he just wanted me to relay this message to you.” He stops, eyes softening. “I know we all give you shit for not cracking the charts lately, Chanyeol, but this isn’t about that, not really. I know how much your music means to you. Byun Baekhyun… well, just consider him as an aid, okay? Someone to give you a little boost.”

“Yeah, fine,” Chanyeol says, flipping open his laptop once more. “Thanks, Minseok. And… thank Joonmyun, too. For, you know, caring.”

Minseok gives him a big cheesy grin before shutting the door, leaving Chanyeol alone to Google the newest development in his life in privacy. _Byun Baekhyun_.

 

~

 

Sure, some things change in four years. The models of iPhones, fashion, the hole in the ozone layer. But apparently, not Byun Baekhyun and Park Chanyeol, or at least, the awkward air that simmers between them.

“Byun,” Chanyeol says stiffly, sticking out an equally stiff hand. Baekhyun stares at it as if it’s coated in acid. Finally, he plunks his hand into his, pumping it up and down like it’s a soap dispenser and not part of Chanyeol’s body.

“Park,” he says unfeelingly. A deep, weird sense of jealousy settles in the pit of his stomach as he takes in just how much taller the composer is compared to him. With the black White Sox baseball cap jammed over the other’s head, he must have at least twelve centimeters on him.

“If we’re going to work together, I want to put some rules down beforehand.”

Baekhyun cocks an eyebrow. “Rules? What is this? A dictatorship?”

“We’re in _my_ studio. I think I have a right to lay down some guidelines for _visitors._ ”

“Right, and that’s just stupid. I don’t know why we’re working in _here_ \--” Baekhyun gestures with his arms at the minimalist space of Chanyeol’s studio. “--when my studio is much bigger, with newer equipment and better acoustics--”

“Rule one, no patronizing me when in the working space. You can do it outside for all I care, but this… this is a sacred space. No negative vibes here. _Especially_ from you and your unacceptably critical and big-headed self.”

Baekhyun’s mouth drops open, but as he begins to argue, Chanyeol talks over him in a louder voice. “Rule two, you have a problem with any of my melodies or tracks, you _talk_ to me first before making any edits. I don’t want anything happening like last time with _Moment_ when you deleted half of the backing track because you didn’t like how it fit with the bridge.”

At this point, Baekhyun’s face erupts in heat and there’s a telltale clench in his jaw, like it’s taking everything in him not to the jump the composer. Chanyeol seems unbothered, plowing on. “Rule three, no food. Absolutely no food in the studio. Water’s alright, but if you spill on my keyboard, you’re dead.”

“What? You’re still bitter that I refused to share my fries with you?” Baekhyun’s smirk is unbearable and Chanyeol grits his teeth together at the smugness in his tone. “That was _four_ years ago, Park. You know, I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt and think that you might have changed after such a long time, but you’re obviously just as affected and irritable.”

“Well, you’re not much different, either,” Chanyeol shoots back, leaning closer into Baekhyun’s personal space, chest heaving slightly. “You’re just as full of yourself. Only thing that seems to have changed is that you seem even shorter now.” His lips curve into a satisfied smile.

Baekhyun pushes at his chest with both palms flat, watching with complacency as Chanyeol stumbles back. “Fuck you,” he says. “I can’t believe I got roped into this partnership.”

“Believe me, Byun, I hate this arrangement as much as you do.”  

“And yet _Moment_ was my best release to date,” Baekhyun confesses suddenly, slipping into a swivel chair with a groan. “As much as it absolutely _destroys_ me to admit it, I’ve been in a slump recently and I need to start writing again. Look, if we’re going to work together, let’s do it right this time, okay?”

“Fine,” Chanyeol bites, but he doesn’t want to be the irrational one between the two of them. He lets out a deep sigh and collapses into the chair adjacent from Baekhyun’s. “I haven’t… really… been in the best of places either, music-wise. My agent thinks that working with you would straighten things out somehow, which is how this brilliant thing got sparked…”

“Oh yeah,” Baekhyun says, crinkling his nose. “I heard _Full Heart_ in the grocery store a few days ago. Your work, right? It was horrendous, and I’m not saying that to be mean. I’ve heard your stuff. That was definitely not up to your usual standard.”

Chanyeol glares at him from beneath the upturned collar of his Adidas track jacket, but he sinks lower into his chair, long legs braced against the floor. “Whatever. I’m in a slump too. It happens to the best of us.”

A silence passes between them before Baekhyun breaks it by clearing his throat. “Alright, well, at least tell me who we’re creating for so I can get started.”

“Lee Taemin,” Chanyeol says, passing him a yellow file. “We’re in charge of his anniversary comeback song. We have two weeks.”

Baekhyun emits a low whistle as he leafs between pages of concept ideas and potential release dates. “That’s a heavy order. Lee Taemin’s been out of the industry for years now. I see they’re planning an modern-influenced 80s throwback for him?”

“Yeah, so I was thinking a cross between funk and jazz, something lighthearted and danceable. Maybe borrow from vintage Jackson 5 and Tae Jin-ah.”

“What about something a bit more moody? Like still funky and jazzy, but something you can snap your fingers to. I’m thinking along the lines of _I Can’t Feel My Face_ by the Weeknd.”

Chanyeol stares at him. “You’re a lyricist, Byun.”

“I _know_ that,” Baekhyun replies impatiently, propping his chin under one fist as he glares at the composer from his seat. “But I’m giving my input. With my lyrics, you’re allowed to… to give your opinions as well, you know. Your ideas.”

Chanyeol loosens up visibly, straightening his posture as he pulls a clipboard from his desk and jots something down. “Something more moody, huh? That might fit Taemin. I think the choreographer mentioned that the dance was more sensual than playful, anyway.”

“Perfect.”

“And the lyrics… do you have an idea for them? Taemin mentioned that he wants to focus on improving his dancing this time around, so you were given full rights to them.” Chanyeol looks up at Baekhyun, chewing on the tip of his pen solemnly. Baekhyun fleetingly wonders if the composer had heard about his breakup with Taeyeon. It wasn’t widely publicized or anything, but rumors always flew about the music industry like wind-battered plastic bags.

“Yeah, I have an idea,” Baekhyun croaks, coughing in embarrassment when his voice catches unexpectedly. “There were some… not good things that happened in my life recently, so I could probably take that and run with it, maybe create a sarcastic tone for the song. Something about how true love is fake and made up to satiate the masses.” _Fuck._ He didn’t mean for that to come out, not like that.

Chanyeol’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline and he writes something down slowly. “Okay, I guess I’ll just leave you alone to take out all of your hateful feelings onto paper, then.”

“Fuck, no, that’s not what I-- ugh,” Baekhyun groans, wanting nothing more than for Jongdae to bust in and save him for the humiliation that he’s currently experiencing. He writhes in his seat in frustration before attempting to speak again. Chanyeol watches him with a mix of amusement and horror crossed over his face. “I might as well just tell you, if we’re going to be working together. I broke up with my girlfriend of three years a month ago. Kim Taeyeon? The singer? Yeah, it was messy. Sloppy and open-ended. So that… that’s going to influence a lot of my writing. I just. Thought you should know.”

Nodding slowly, Chanyeol sets aside the clipboard and folds his hands across his stomach. “I think I heard something about that from Joonmyun. We can work with that, if that’s what you think is best. And I know you’re going to hate this -- shit, it’s uncomfortable for me too -- but I’m going to need you to be fairly open about your feelings if you’re going to write hard-hitting lyrics.”

“Don’t I love this line of work,” Baekhyun grumbles. “Okay, fine. Yeah, you’re right. Play therapist with me. Wring out all of my dirty secrets and suppressed squishy feelings. That’s what we did with _Moment_ , right? Best fucking lyrics I ever wrote.” He screws his eyes shut.

Normally, Chanyeol would have gloated with the opportunity to see the great _Byun Baekhyun_ vulnerable, but the pained expression on the lyricist's face rearranges his feelings into some semblance of sympathy. “Alright, why don’t you begin by telling me about how you two met?”

Baekhyun removes a beat-up Moleskine from his messenger bag and uncaps a ballpoint pen, while Chanyeol turns to his laptop and opens up Avid Pro Tools. “We met in September of ‘11 at an awards show soundcheck, where she was running around trying to find her in-ear piece and I was in the booth fiddling with four-digit figure equipment as a clueless intern. I was young and she was fucking pretty in a red dress. I don’t know, I think my stupid self fell in love, or so I thought.”

Chanyeol hums as he clicks around on the screen, but it sounds attentive enough, so Baekhyun continues. “It was hard at first… actually, it was always hard. Her schedule was nuts and after _Wanting to Love You_ came out--” He squints. “--And _Moment_ , my schedule got busy, too. I switched companies, got a full contract. She went on a world tour.” He frowns, not liking how detached their relationship sounds coming from his mouth.

“It sounds like you two were very distant,” Chanyeol comments, as if he read his mind.

“I did love her, though,” Baekhyun protests, feeling strangely defensive. “I even considered proposing to her, which was ridiculous. I mean, she’s an _idol_. Can you imagine what backlash we would get? God, netizens are ruthless.”

“You loved her?”

“Yeah, I did,” Baekhyun says, frowning at the past tense. He scribbles something into his journal, sounding out a line in his head.

“So why’d you break up then?” Chanyeol moves fluidly to his keyboard to turn it on, testing out a few chords.

“I… I got scared. I wanted a future with her, or at least that’s what I thought, but I knew it was unrealistic. And she was drifting away. We weren’t seeing each other as much and in the end, it felt more like another business partnership than anything, so I… I broke things off with her. Me, the nobody lyricist, broke up with Kim Taeyeon, the idol that everyone and their mother adores.” The words flood out of his mouth like an unfettered stream, generating line after line of inspiration. He writes as much of it as he can into the notebook, crossing out and replacing words with a vengeance. He sighs deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose.

Chanyeol looks up from the keyboard, the heavy hum of a B flat singing through the air. “You okay?”

“I’m okay.” Baekhyun fights the urge to throw him a lame thumbs up.

“Listen to this.” Chanyeol plays a progression, huge hands floating across the keys with ease. Baekhyun watches the movement with idle fascination, sensitive ears attuned to the melody. It’s short, clean, jazzy, but there’s an edge to it, a kick of spice. And yet something’s missing.

“Sounds good. But do you mind if I…” Baekhyun walks over the bench and sits at the edge. Wordlessly, Chanyeol scoots over to give him space. The composer has this natural warmth exuding from him. Baekhyun can feel it seeping into his sides even though there’s a good chunk of space between them. He plays the progression with Chanyeol’s help, but at the end, instead of finishing on a low note, he goes high, gives the melody a particular lilt that suggests uncertainty. “A high note, to make it sound… like a question. Because the lyrics, they’re going to be ironic. A little questioning.”

Chanyeol nods slowly, agreeing. “Can I see what you’ve written so far?”

It takes Baekhyun a few twenty seconds before he hands Chanyeol his Moleskine, as if it physically pains him to part with it. “It’s just pieces right now. Ideas that I just made up and some that have been floating around in my head for a while.” He waits in excruciating silence as Chanyeol pores over his chicken scratch, mouth moving around syllables quietly.

“This is stunning, Byun. I have to admit that you’re a fucking good lyricist.”

“Damn right I am.”

Chanyeol clips him in the shoulder. “Don’t ruin the moment, you ass. I was just warming up to you.” Baekhyun’s face warms, so he nudges him harshly with his elbow to cover it up.  

“That’s how you warm up to someone?”

“I haven’t insulted you since our little agreement, have I?”

“Whatever,” Baekhyun says, suddenly hyperaware of how close Chanyeol is to him, still skimming the lyrics with the pad of a broad finger.

“Give me your pen,” the composer commands. Baekhyun hands it to him hesitantly. “I’m going to make a few corrections, okay?” He marks the paper without waiting for an answer.

“Hey dumbass, I didn’t say you could...” Baekhyun hisses, lunging for the pen. “What the _fuck_ \-- Park -- don’t touch it. Don’t you dare.”

“You handed me the pen, Byun,” Chanyeol says from behind gritted teeth, raising the notebook unfairly high in the air so that Baekhyun’s swipes are futile. “And I’m giving you my suggestions, just like you said before. Or what? Is Byun Baekhyun above and beyond critique? So it’s okay for you to give feedback on my melodies but it’s not okay if I do the same for you?”

“I didn’t say that,” Baekhyun snarls. “It’s fine if you give me feedback, okay? Just ask before you write directly in my notebook.” He kneels on the bench and wrestles it out of Chanyeol’s grip. “This thing is precious to me. It has a lot of old, unpublished stuff that still means something to me.”

Chanyeol’s face smooths out from its frown and his eyes soften. “Sorry, I didn’t… sorry.”

Baekhyun huffs and uncrinkles the corner of the journal. It’s petty of him, he knows, but he doesn’t answer.

He lapses into silence once more, lifting himself off of the keyboard bench and plopping defeatedly back onto the swivel chair, more than aware of the coldness of the fabric in contrast to the comforting heat of the bench. Chanyeol situates himself begrudgingly in front of his laptop, shoulders hunched and turned away from Baekhyun. A heavy silence hangs between them for the rest of the afternoon.

 

~

 

The next morning, Jongdae corners Baekhyun in the break room next to Chanyeol’s studio.

“What the fuck? Jongdae? What are you doing here?” Baekhyun gawks openly at his sound tech, who has a silly grin on his face and two huge coffees balanced in either hand.

“Aw, don’t look so pleased to see me,” Jongdae says. “Minseok -- Chanyeol’s sound tech -- invited me to set up the presets for when Taemin comes in to record. And speaking of Chanyeol, I heard that you two are making progress! Kyungsoo was right, you two really do have musical chemistry together. I heard the main melody and I have to say that it sounds pretty good so far, Baek.”

“You heard… what?” Baekhyun sets his paper cup on top of the water dispenser.

“The melody. After you left last night, Chanyeol gathered me, Kyungsoo, and his whole producing gang into the studio and played the progression. I liked it. Kid’s got talent.”

Baekhyun fights off the vague feeling of being left out that nags at him like a whisper in the back of his head. All he can say is, “Is that so?”

“Chanyeol’s agent, Joonmyun, says that he hasn’t produced something that quickly in a long time. I think it’s you, Baek--”

“No, it’s not me,” Baekhyun laughs weakly. “I was a crappy person to him yesterday and I didn’t even apologize. I don’t know Dae, you know how it went with _Moment_. I tried to be nicer to him this time around, but he just… rubs me the wrong way. No matter what he does, I always feel on edge around him.”

“Maybe it’s not hatred that you’re feeling,” Jongdae says. “Jealousy, maybe? But then again, you two both work in very different fields of composition. _Oh my god, maybe--_ ”

“ _NO_ , Jongdae,” Baekhyun all but shouts as a mischievous look takes over his sound tech’s face. “I _don’t_ like him. Fuck, I don’t even like him like a friend, why would I think of him like _that_?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Jongdae singsongs, gesticulating much too grandly for someone who has two hot drinks in his grip. “Maybe you’re misinterpreting the traction between the both of you. I’m pretty sure I can recall this exact same conversation four years ago, when you stormed out of the studio claiming that Chanyeol drove you up the wall. Could be sexual tension, but then again, what do I know?”

“Sexual tension?” A deep voice cuts through the air just as Baekhyun pounces on his friend, dodging the drops of coffee that rain down onto the floor. “What’s going on?”

Baekhyun tenses immediately. “Park.”

“Byun. Jongdae,” Chanyeol says. There’s an empty glass in his hand, clearly ready for a water refill. He bobs his head in Jongdae’s direction but doesn’t look Baekhyun’s way.

“Yeah, I was just leaving,” Jongdae says, edging out of the door. “But _Baekhyun here_ has something to say to you.”

Chanyeol turns toward Baekhyun with one brow arched expectantly while Baekhyun splutters, throwing desperate looks at Jongdae that go sorely unnoticed.

“You look nice,” he blurts out when the door slams shut, because it’s the first thing that comes to his mind and because he _does_. He’s not wearing the usual Adidas getup and his hair is brushed neatly, bangs curving over his brow. Chanyeol pulls at the collar of his grey sweater nervously like it’s choking him.

“I don’t think that what you wanted to say.”

“I give you a compliment and that’s how you respond?” Baekhyun challenges, but his face falls when Chanyeol just continues to stare at him, unwavering in his stance. “No, you’re right. That’s not what I wanted to say. I wanted to… apologize for yesterday. For blowing up at you and then being pissy and not accepting your apology. I know you weren’t trying to rile me up. I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” Chanyeol says quickly, maneuvering around him to fill up his glass. Baekhyun jumps out of the way like Chanyeol’s on fire. “I won’t touch your notes without permission again. And for what it’s worth…” His eyes scan Baekhyun’s black hoodie and ripped jeans with painful deliberation. “You look good too.”

The words replay in Baekhyun’s head all afternoon. When Kyungsoo drops by the studio to hand him the contract papers to sign, he does a double take. “You’re smiling.”

Baekhyun quickly drops the corners of his mouth. “What? No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are. What happened? Jongdae drop his car keys in the toilet again?”

“Sure,” Baekhyun replies, waving off his agent, but the smile rapidly makes its way to his face soon after.

He meets with Chanyeol an hour later in the smaller recording room, surrounded by three MIDI keyboards, an amp, a bass guitar, and a couple of acoustics fitted crookedly into stands. “Hey,” Chanyeol says, standing up with an acoustic guitar strapped to his chest when Baekhyun enters the room. “I wanna play you something to try to finalize the underlying melody.”

Baekhyun sits across from him. “You want me to sing? Ad-lib?” He remembers the way it worked with _Moment_ , with them playing around with chord structures until they found something that clicked.

“Yeah.” He strums a bit before his fingers begin to dance along the guitar neck. Baekhyun starts off quietly, a bit shy, before his voice builds in confidence, escalating and slowing, rising and falling with the rhythm and pulse of Chanyeol’s melodies. They work together flawlessly, he knows that, because they don’t even need verbal communication to express how the notes are supposed to sound together. Looking into Chanyeol’s eyes, Baekhyun just _knows._

When they stop, Baekhyun is out of breath, and he knows it’s not just from all of the singing. “Thank you,” he says, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

Chanyeol raises his head in surprise. “You’re welcome. You have a lovely voice.”

Baekhyun feels heat spreading to his cheeks. “Your eye twitches weirdly when you’re concentrating really hard, you know that?” He rises and makes an excuse about getting a glass of water to leave the room and its sudden intensity, but he thinks he hears Chanyeol’s deep chuckling behind him as he walks out.

They finish the rest of the verse melody line that day, to Joonmyun and Kyungsoo’s delight. Chanyeol gets all excited as he records the bridge on an electric guitar, shredding loud sequences in front of Baekhyun, who groans at the noise and throws wadded-up tissues at his head when he strums especially loud on purpose.

The lyrics are coming along too, though Baekhyun can’t quite figure out the third verse. When Chanyeol is powering off his laptop for the day, Baekhyun catches him from the back of his sweater with his pointer finger. “Hey, I need your help.”

“Woah, you’re actually asking for my help?”

Baekhyun fixes him a withering look. “Fine, I’ll do this on my own.”

“No, no, I’m sorry. What do you need help with?” He takes the chair across from Baekhyun.

“I can’t figure this out.” Baekhyun drags an inky line through a cluster of uncooperative words. “The third verse feels kind of contrived.”

Chanyeol places his hands under the notebook, silently asking for permission. Baekhyun slides it into his hands.

“Hm,” Chanyeol hums, perusing the lyrics. There are a formless ink blots on the page now and big cross-outs covering the margins. “Okay, so let’s begin with the end of the second verse. You talk about how a lover never stays when they’re dissatisfied, but never goes when they’re ready.” He glances at Baekhyun. “What are you trying to say?”

“See,” Baekhyun says, scratching the back of his neck. “With Taeyeon, it wasn’t really about us falling apart. It was more like… I couldn’t care for her anymore and she deserved to be with someone who could. So, surrendering, I guess? Even though I didn’t want to.” His voice peters out and he clenches his jaw. He hates how thinking about her still impacts him, even now.

“Okay, so letting go? And realizing that you love her, but not in the way that you expected you did.”

“Yeah, _yeah_ ,” Baekhyun agrees, eyes widening. “You get it.”

Chanyeol locks eyes with him, his stare burning and ardent. For some reason, Baekhyun can’t look away. His mouth dries and his palms begin to sweat as Chanyeol’s eyes shift from his own eyes, to his nose, and finally to his mouth, where it lingers carefully. He sucks in his bottom lip quickly, trying to return wetness to his suddenly arid mouth. Then the composer stands, chair scraping loudly against the floor. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Byun.”

And then he’s gone, leaving a very confused Baekhyun in his wake.

 

~

 

The next few days drag by as Baekhyun wrestles with the bridge and chorus, turning over lines in his head all the way from the time he tumbles out of bed to the point when he falls asleep on the couch still in his sweater and jeans, exhausted from the long day. Chanyeol isn’t much help, as he sits all day at his keys, frustrated because the chorus isn’t building in the right way.

They’ve worked out a system without words. Chanyeol sits at his desk next to the keyboard with his laptop constantly plugged in. Baekhyun sits at the adjacent wall at a plastic folding table with his own laptop and notebook open, scribbling away.

They don’t talk unless it’s absolutely necessary, but Baekhyun feels an acute sense of betrayal every time his face heats up when their fingers brush when Chanyeol hands him a pen or a USB stick. It leaves a sickly feeling in the bottom of his gut, one that clings until Chanyeol exits the room and Baekhyun can finally take a deep breath.

 

~

 

It’s on Saturday that Chanyeol bursts into the studio room with two steaming mugs in his hand, which smell absolutely fucking fantastic.

“What is that?” Baekhyun just about drools.

“Raspberry hazelnut mocha,” Chanyeol answers, slipping him one of the mugs, ribbons of steam shooting upward. “Careful, it’s hot.”

“How much do I owe you?” Baekhyun breathes in the steam and lets out a blissful sigh. It smells heavenly.

“Nothing,” the composer grunts, settling into his usual seat in front of the desk. “Just a little something to get your creative juices flowing. We only have a week left.”

Baekhyun looks at him with raised eyebrows, but Chanyeol’s back is turned to him. He’s in his usual Adidas garb. “Uh… thank you.”

“No problem, Baekhyun.” Baekhyun jolts a little in his seat and stifles a pleased smile, because Chanyeol just called him _Baekhyun_. Not Byun, but Baekhyun. He doesn’t know why that makes him so giddy, but it takes all that he’s got not to bust into a fit of giggles.

“You’re a sweetheart,” he croons, just to get the last word.

Chanyeol’s ears take on an impressive shade of scarlet. “Shut up, Byun, or I’ll retract my gift.”

“I could have sworn someone mentioned a no-food policy for this studio, though.”

“Just shut up and enjoy the coffee.”

“Seriously though, I didn't take you for someone to back out on his word.”

Chanyeol swings around in his seat and gives Baekhyun the most exasperated look he can muster. “Are you _trying_ to annoy me today?”

“Just being friendly, sheesh. It wouldn’t kill you to loosen up a bit. You’re always on edge, so anxious all the time.”

There’s a flash of something dark in Chanyeol’s eyes before he stabs the piano keys in quick succession, like he’s trying to make a point. “This stupid melody isn’t coming together. So until I can figure it out and resurrect my dying career, _no_ , I can’t _loosen up,_ Byun, because not all of us can churn out bubblegum pop hit after hit like you can to stay afloat in this suffocating industry.”

Baekhyun silences, unsure of what to say. Chanyeol sighs through his nose. “Look, I’m sorry. That wasn’t right of me to say. I’m… I’m going to take a break outside.” He stands up and pushes at the door like it can’t open fast enough, leaving Baekhyun lounging in his chair, a bitter taste resting on his tongue.

Footsteps ascend soon after and Baekhyun looks up from where he’s sulking, still unsure of how to face Chanyeol. It isn’t the composer, though, but Kyungsoo who enters, a frown etched onto his face.

“I just saw Chanyeol storm out of here. What did you say to him, Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun laughs darkly. “Geez, you’re already siding with him? I didn’t say anything to him, not really. Park’s just being moody as usual.” Kyungsoo gives him a look, prodding him to explain further. “He came in here, gave me a mocha free of charge, we… exchanged some words. He got angry and left in a huff.”

“Exchanged some words?”

“Okay, so I told him to loosen up. Don’t look at me like that, Soo. I say that to lots of people! Hell, I say that to you almost every single day! But he went off about how he couldn’t loosen up since he was going to lose his career because he couldn’t figure out the melody of the chorus. That’s bullcrap, by the way. He’s got an ear for tunes... I would know. I think he’s just confused about what he’s looking for.”

Kyungsoo puffs his cheeks out impatiently, resembling an angry chipmunk. “Chanyeol’s under a lot of pressure,” he says by means of explanation. “His latest songs haven’t charted well, if at all, and I’m sure you’ve noticed that his recent work has been subpar at best.”

“But he never _explains_ stuff like that. He just bottles it up and lets it explode after a while.”

“Well, maybe you’re not giving him the opportunity to explain,” Kyungsoo suggests, crossing his arms. “Do you ask him questions to understand him? Does he ask _you_ questions?”

Baekhyun frowns, recalling Chanyeol’s gentle questioning about Taeyeon. He can’t remember if he’s ever asked Chanyeol about his own life.

“That’s the beauty of the music-making process, Baek. You learn about yourself and others through it.”

A tiny light of understanding seems to fill Baekhyun, warm and slow until it comes like a rush upon him. “You’re insufferable, you know that? Why are you always right? Why can’t I be right for a change?” he groans loudly.

Kyungsoo cracks a grin and pats him on the back in good humor. “Go find Chanyeol, apologize, and see if you can’t get to know him a little better.”

Baekhyun finds Chanyeol sitting outside of the building on the curb, sipping gravely at his mocha, his knees bent at an angle and pushed against his chest. He looks very serious, with tufts of brown hair sticking out from beneath the usual ballcap. Baekhyun finds himself smiling at the way the hat’s rim catches on Chanyeol’s pointed ears.

His hands begin to perspire as he nears the composer, and when he sits next to him, he allows for a polite stretch of space between them. Chanyeol glances at him, unamused. “What do you want, Byun? You know I came out here to get a break.” The words “ _from you”_ go unsaid, but the bite in his voice is enough.

It stings, but Baekhyun lets it roll of his back. He isn’t really sure what he wants actually, but Kyungsoo’s words keep circling in his head, pressing at him. He could say sorry. He could reenact one of those cheesy movie scenes after a fight where one character re-introduces himself to the other to start afresh. By the time enough silence has passed for Chanyeol to stare at him like he’s sprouted another head, Baekhyun merely blurts out, “What’s your favorite color?”

The composer blinks rapidly. “What?” Then, his face hardens. “Byun, I’m not playing games with you.”

“It’s not a game, I promise. Not… not anymore.” Baekhyun sucks in a deep breath. “Someone told me that music is all about learning about yourself and others, which I’ve frankly sucked at. So this is me trying to get to know you.”

Enough quiet passes for Baekhyun to feel stupid, but then Chanyeol says evenly, “Black.”

“What?”

“My favorite color’s black.” He gestures at his Adidas tracksuit and the black Nikes adorning his feet.

“Right. Stupid question. Okay, so where did you grow up?”

“Here, in Seoul. My older sister Yoora and I spent my time hopping between my mom and dad’s, since they got divorced when I was seven.”

The conversation flows much more fluidly after this, with Baekhyun asking follow-up questions and Chanyeol acquiescing with increasingly little hesitance. Over time, Baekhyun discovers that Chanyeol is full of hilarious anecdotes and horrendous puns, that he’s deathly allergic to cats but more than a little in love with them, that he likes boys just as much as girls, and that he’s scared about his future in music because it feels more like a job to him now than a passion.

It’s a lot for Baekhyun to take in, but he savors every bit of information that Chanyeol allows him, and when they unfold themselves from the curb when the sun’s dipping behind the high-rise buildings, there are bashful smiles resting on both of their faces.

 

~

 

The final week flies by without mercy. Chanyeol and Baekhyun spend longer hours in the studio, putting final touches to the lyrics and composition. The studio is no longer full of throbbing silence or awkward tension; instead, boisterous laughter always bounces off the soundproof walls and there’s usually some spread of takeout boxes swallowing both of their desks, silly rules long forgotten.

Chanyeol lets Baekhyun experiment on the keyboard and even teaches him a few guitar chords and Baekhyun lets Chanyeol skim through the entirety of his Moleskine, proudly showing off some of his favorite lines.

It’s different, but a good kind of different. Of course, Jongdae doesn’t let up with the innuendos every time he pops into the studio, and even Joonmyun has gained the habit of referring to Chanyeol and Baekhyun as a single unit. Even so, neither of them address the matter, even when Baekhyun catches Chanyeol staring at his lips or when Chanyeol feels the heat of Baekhyun’s eyes on him as he whips off his sweatshirt and accidentally exposes a strip of his stomach.

It’s casual, Baekhyun reminds himself. He repeats it like a mantra to himself all the way to Thursday, two days before the release date. Taemin pops in at eight AM for recording, and he sounds absolutely marvelous, but Baekhyun barely pays attention to his sound because Chanyeol is parading around the studio in a black tee shirt and a rust-colored flannel, black hair pushed off his forehead and heavy black boots on his feet. He looks straight out of one of Baekhyun’s college wet dreams and the lyricist has a difficult time keeping his tongue in his mouth.

“What’s with the clothes?” Baekhyun teases when Chanyeol comes into the studio after helping Jongdae with mixing, trying hard to sound casual, but intentionally averting his eyes. “Special date with a special someone afterward?”

“No reason,” Chanyeol says. “It’s just that some of us don’t like dressing like bums 24/7.”

Baekhyun glances down at his grey sweats and lets out an indignant squawk. “Take that back.”

“I mean that cowlick is impressive, Baek.” Chanyeol’s smirk is incredibly smug as Baekhyun trips over his feet trying to swat at his perfectly tousled hair.

“At least I change my clothes on a daily basis,” Baekhyun shouts. “You wear the same damn Adidas tracksuit every single day.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not the one in sweats here, am I? And for your information, I have eight different tracksuits on rotation.”

“What a record-breaking life accomplishment, Chanyeol.”

“Well let me ask you this,” Chanyeol says, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “When was the last time you washed your hair?”

Baekhyun really doesn’t want to answer that, so he merely launches himself at the tall composer, virtually wrapping his arms around his waist. They knock into the side of a Stratocaster and roll onto the floor, limbs impossibly tangled together. Baekhyun is breathing hard as he takes in their compromising position, eyes widening as he realizes the how close Chanyeol’s face is to his. He’s… handsome. It’s painful to confess it explicitly to himself, but Baekhyun’s kept it in for years now, hiding his attraction to the man ever since he walked into Baekhyun’s studio like the perfect representation of his late-night fantasies back when they were paired up for _Moment._ His gaze ghosts over Chanyeol’s straight nose, his bright, vigilant eyes, and finally down to his lips, half-open with surprise.

“Baekhyun?” Chanyeol’s voice is deeper than normal and it sends a pulse of something electrifying through Baekhyun's body, enough to make him shoot off of the taller man and back onto his feet.

“Aha… yeah… um listen, I really didn’t mean to… s-sorry,” Baekhyun starts, his words mashing together into an incoherent mess. He edges toward the door, face aflame.

“I was kidding you know, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol says hurriedly, scrambling off the floor. “You always look good, even when you come in with your bedhead and sweats. You’re always… you always… you always do...” He inches closer to where Baekhyun’s frozen against the door. Slowly, terrifyingly, his hand comes up to cup his cheek. Baekhyun can’t move, even though his back is digging painfully into the doorknob and his knees quake like they’re going to give out any minute.

Then Chanyeol’s thumb brushes gently, featherlight, right next to the corner of his lip, and he jerks violently, snapping back to reality like he’s been doused with ice water. “Chanyeol… I gotta go talk to Kyungsoo. Um, the jacket album. I mean… album jacket. They’re putting the lyrics on it and I have to make sure that they… um, put them on right. I need to go.” He races out of the door, cringing when it bangs behind him, the sound rebounding down the hallway. He doesn’t dare look back to gauge Chanyeol’s reaction to his sudden departure.

He doesn’t know where to go, so he actually runs to Kyungsoo, practically collapsing into his arms in front of half the staff. They’re squashed into a post-production room, surrounded by TV flatscreens and bundles of tangled wires and mismatched mic stands. “Kyungsoo. _Kyungsoo._ ”

“Baekhyun, why are you all sweaty? Were you running? Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. Can you find Chanyeol? Jongdae was trying to find him earlier. Something happened with the mix and he needs the backup of the second harmony.” Kyungsoo’s words come out quick and monotone, like they usually do when the agent’s pressed for time.

“No, Kyungsoo, please. Don’t make me go back to Chanyeol.”

Kyungsoo stares at him hard, his gaping morphing into an impressive glare. “Don’t tell me you fucked things up with Chanyeol again. Really, Baek? Two days before release? And you two were getting along so beautifully.”

Baekhyun stops to scrunch his nose in confusion. “Beautifully?”

“The guy is obviously enamored with you, Baekhyun. And _you,_ well, you haven’t mentioned Taeyeon since that little talk you had with him on the curb. Remember that? You called me immediately after and blabbered for half an hour about how much you actually like the guy and were wrong about hating him unnecessarily for four straight years.”

“I don’t know anymore,” Baekhyun says helplessly. “Some things happened between us.”

“Things? Baekhyun, what did I tell you about needless insults?”

“No, no, it’s not like that,” Baekhyun protests. “He… he... “ His voice drops to a whisper. “He tried to kiss me.”

Kyungsoo groans in exasperation. “Then you kiss him back, you idiot. I know you secretly like him, even though you act like you hate his guts. I wish that you two would stop playing this awful grade-school game because both of you are way too cowardly to admit your feelings and _fucking make out already!_ ” He pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun says in shock.

Kyungsoo’s glare softens as he steps closer to Baekhyun. “I know you’re still moving on from Taeyeon. I get that part. But seeing you interact with Chanyeol has made me aware of a few things. He’s not just another composer to you, or a business partner like Taeyeon ended up being. So if you really care about Chanyeol and the friendship you’ve formed in record speed over the last several days, you’re going to fix it. Go find him.”

“Kyungsoo, you don’t understand--”

“I understand plenty. Go. Find. Him.”

Baekhyun gives him one last pleading look, and when the other merely raises an eyebrow in challenge, he huffs and turns out of the door, dragging his feet in dread. Chanyeol isn’t hard to find; he’s still in the recording room, spacing out on an amp speaker, staring at the Queen and The Who vinyls that hang on the wall.

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun says, wincing when his voice comes out a lot less confident than he expects. He tries again. “Chanyeol, Jongdae needs you to--”

“You ran away,” Chanyeol interrupts, staring at Baekhyun intensely. “Again.” He rises to his feet. “I thought we were over this. I thought we were going leave behind running away with what happened after _Moment._ ”

“This has nothing to do with _Moment_.” Baekhyun scowls and pulls himself fully into the room, shutting the door behind him.

“Then why react the same way, Baekhyun? Four years and nothing has changed.”

“I don’t need a reason,” Baekhyun shouts. “You… you were going to kiss me.” There. He’s confronted it once and for all. But instead of getting flustered like he anticipates, Chanyeol smirks.

“Yeah, I was going to kiss you. And I’m not ashamed to say it. I wasn’t afraid back then either, after we got the news of _Moment_ hitting Gaon’s ceiling in forty seconds. But you, Byun, you’re afraid.”

“You were drunk, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun says harshly, averting his eyes, though his heart feels like it's been throttled. He really thought this topic would never resurface, but apparently he was wrong. “Remember? You brought _somaek_ into the studio to celebrate and kissed me because it was both of our first chart-toppers and you were excited out of your mind and you were _drunk._ ”

“I was buzzed, but I wasn’t drunk. I knew exactly what I was doing, Baek.”

Baekhyun squints up at Chanyeol, confusion and suspicion clouding his features. “I don't think you mean what you're implying.”

“ _Dammit_ , Byun!” Chanyeol takes a giant step toward Baekhyun before retracting his movements and pulling at his hair in frustration. “Why are you always like this? So… so afraid? Nothing has changed.” He laughs bitterly. “Back then, I caught you looking at me. I know it was you who left that note on my music stand a few days before _Moment’s_ release and I know you liked me because you _kissed me back._ ”

Baekhyun’s eyes widen as his back hits the wall, remembering the sticky note he had scribbled a hasty confession on before chickening out and tossing it into the trash. It was childish, silly, written on a whim. “I threw away that note.”

“Well, someone must have found it and stuck it there. But however it got there doesn’t matter. What matters is that you liked me and well, I’ll say it loud and clear so the meaning of all this doesn’t keep flying over your pretty head. I _like_ you, Byun Baekhyun. I liked you when we collaborated on _Moment_ and you walked into the studio wearing a green raincoat because you got the weather forecast all wrong and I like you now, where we spend our days making music in ways that only we can when we work together. I'm a coward because I rile you up only because I want your attention. But I’m ready to be direct with you now and to end the games we've been playing.”

Chanyeol stops, breathing heavily. When Baekhyun merely looks at him with a dropped mouth, he swings open the door to leave, shaking his head. “I’m gonna find Jongdae,” he mutters, brushing past Baekhyun’s shoulder.

“Chanyeol… stop. Listen.” Somehow, Baekhyun wills his voice to work. Thankfully, Chanyeol breaks in the middle of the hallway, his back still turned against him. “Okay, fine. Yeah, I’m afraid. I’m fucking terrified, actually. I’m scared of messing up another chance, like I did with Taeyeon. I’m scared of committing and disappointing and regretting.”

He pauses. His heart lurches as he looks at Chanyeol, who stares back with such a soft expression on his face, waiting for an answer. He thinks of the past week, of their shared laughs and stories, the way his heartbeat stumbled whenever Chanyeol hovered over him as he showed him his notebook, the shy smile they shared as Chanyeol walked him back to his car after wrapping up the evening. “I ran away last time because I thought for sure, you kissed me out of momentary euphoria when I really liked you and I wanted you so badly it hurt. It made me so fucking angry thinking that you probably made a huge joke out my crush and I couldn’t stand it, so I left. And I ran away today because I still… I still feel the same way as I did all those years ago and yeah, I’m still afraid.”

Chanyeol’s back is unmoving and for a split second Baekhyun wants to cry out in frustration, but then the composer is running to him and engulfing him in his arms. “No more running away,” Chanyeol says solemnly. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore because I want this as much as you do. And your feelings were never a joke to me, never.”

Baekhyun is quiet for a moment, sliding his hands down Chanyeol’s back tentatively. “No more running,” he agrees, finally. “Not anymore.”

Chanyeol kisses him then, long and sweet and good. Baekhyun buries his fingers in Chanyeol’s hair and kisses him back, breathing in the composer’s warm, heady scent. Chanyeol’s big hands move lower to caress his ass, kneading and massaging with strong fingers. Their noses bump softly and their hips press together with want as Chanyeol slowly slides his tongue deeper, tangling with Baekhyun’s own. As they break apart to breathe, Chanyeol’s hands wrap instinctively around Baekhyun’s waist, an action so simple and yet intimate that it makes Baekhyun’s breath catch in his throat.

Just then, the door bursts open, revealing an irritable Jongdae. “Chanyeol, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Baekhyun was supposed to--” He pauses, taking in the scene before him. His smile grows into a smirk as he leans against the door frame. “Oh, this is interesting. I thought you two hated each other.”

Chanyeol grins down at Baekhyun, who turns a noteworthy shade of red but doesn’t hold him any less tight. “Guess you all were right. Things do change.”

 

~

 

Lee Taemin’s comeback single, _Turn Around_ , hits all-kill status in half a minute. It’s all people can talk about -- the funky rhythm, the upbeat melody, and the strangely heart-wrenching lyrics. It plays on the radio constantly and consumes every single cafe and restaurant dotting the streets, much to Kyungsoo’s partial vexation.

To celebrate their success, Chanyeol pops into the studio one night as Baekhyun’s cleaning up, a bottle of champagne in one hand and two glass flutes in the other. He grins as he enters, wrenching off the top with a bottle opener that he produces with a flourish from his back pocket. “It’s not _somaek_ , but I thought we’d have a little something to celebrate our big song.”

Baekhyun grins back and stretches out a hand for a flute. “SoundWeek put in an early review. Five stars! But more importantly, Jongdae himself told me that _Turn Around_ was even better than _Moment_ in terms of musical quality.” His smile drops slightly. “Actually, that was after he laughed in my face and told me that he and Minseok were betting on how quickly we’d get together. Did you know about that?”

“Yup,” Chanyeol says, popping the P. His smile turns sappy as he fills up Baekhyun’s glass, flicking the liquid at his face for good measure. “I don’t care, though. As long as you’re with me, I’m happy.”

Baekhyun groans with embarrassment, but his face turns tomato red in pleasure. He wipes his face on Chanyeol’s purple hoodie and stands on his toes to kiss him, tangling his fingers in his hair. “I’m going to miss this,” he says longingly, looking around the room, memorizing the vinyls on the wall, their two desks -- now pressed together --, the various guitars leaning precariously off of their stands, and the endless sheets of music blanketing the desks and floor. “I can’t believe our two weeks are up.”

“Actually, I wanted to ask you something,” Chanyeol murmurs, pulling apart from Baekhyun.

“You’re not… not going to propose, are you?”

Chanyeol looks horrified, but Baekhyun laughs lightheartedly and slaps his arm. “I’m joking… unless you’re… not?”

“No, no, Baek,” Chanyeol chuckles nervously. “I wasn’t going to ask that, at least not now. I wanted to know if you might consider creating a joint studio label with me so we can collaborate more in the future. If we did, we could act as free agents, but continue to work separately for other projects under Jongdae and Joonmyun’s agencies.”

“I’m your boyfriend, though,” Baekhyun says, folding into Chanyeol’s chest, muffling his voice in the thick cotton of his sweatshirt. “I don’t need a studio to be with you.”

Chanyeol laughs and hugs Baekhyun tight, rocking them across the room in a lazy waltz. “Of course not. But you’re also the one I love making music with the most.”

Baekhyun flashes him a content smile, eyes half-lidded and droopy. “Okay, I’m in. But only on one condition.” The corners of his mouth turn up in wicked satisfaction.

“Which is…?”

The lyricist's smile is nearly carnal. “We soundproof the room so we can make _other_ kinds of music too.”

 

~

 

Studio 6104 ends up writing, composing, and producing Lee Taemin’s bonus track on his new album. Critics crow that it’s the “hidden gem” of the entire package, and the two producers -- Byun Baekhyun and Park Chanyeol -- are even interviewed by Musical Point about their creative process. They come to the interview dressed in identical black baseball caps and black jackets over knit sweaters and jeans, laughing uproariously over a joke that only they seem to find funny.

“So how did the song come together?” the interviewer asks, tucking a blond hair behind her ear flirtatiously, looking solely at the taller man sitting on the couch a few feet away. He barely gives her a second glance, however, too busy beaming at the shorter man tucked into the sofa beside him.

“Chanyeol actually helped me with the lyrics and I gave him a hand with the melody, so you could say it was truly a joint effort,” Baekhyun says.

“Our inspiration came from our own relationship and experiences, actually,” Chanyeol explains, gesticulating enthusiastically. “ _Let Me Love You_ is about someone who falls deeply in love and asks to stay forever with the other person.”

“Is that so?” the interviewer questions, appearing vaguely disappointed by the way Chanyeol’s thrown an arm casually over Baekhyun’s shoulder like it’s second nature for him. “Can you sing us a part of the song together?” When the two producers nod gladly, she turns toward the camera and motions for the track to start. “Studio 6104, singing their hit bonus track, _Let Me Love You_ , off of Lee Taemin’s album, _Eternity_!”

Baekhyun glances at Chanyeol as the intro begins, and they count in together with a few taps of a finger. “1… 2… 3…”

The first moment we were face to face, I knew  
That someday  
We would meet like this

Whenever I have time, I want to see you  
I cleared my weekend schedule  
That was completely full

You’re different from other people  
You’ve probably heard  
That you’re special  
Too many times that you’re sick of it

But don’t take it lightly  
Because I’m serious now  
Don’t hesitate and choose me

When you open your eyes in the morning  
I will be by your side  
At sleepless night  
I will hold you closely

Just let me love you  
All you have to do  
Is nod your head slightly

I, I wanna fall in love  
Come one more step closer to me  
I, I wanna fall in love  
Will you stay by my side?  


**Author's Note:**

> Outfits from this fic --  
> [Smoking hot Chanyeol in a flannel](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CufUx65UkAA-iga.jpg)  
> [BBH and PCY in their matching caps and jackets](https://koreaboo-cdn.storage.googleapis.com/2016/12/Chanyeol-and-baekhyun-02.jpg)  
> (Final lyrics are from Junggigo and Chanyeol's Duet, Let Me Love You!)


End file.
